A Thousand Years
by Brown Owl 13
Summary: The year is 2019, Merlin has waited over a thousand years for his master, but now he cannot wait any longer. The magic in the earth is forever growing weaker, and he needs help, not only from Arthur, but from a wizard who left this sort of life behind 21 years ago, and Harry Potter is less than happy to go back to it.
1. Prologue

**A Thousand Years**

***Spoilers: Merlin series 5 & Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows***

"The old religion is the one thing that binds this earth and all its contents together, without it you and I can only imagine the consequences"

The year is 2019, Merlin has waited over a thousand years for his master, but now he cannot wait any longer. The magic in the earth is forever growing weaker, and he needs help, not only from Arthur, but from a wizard who left this sort of life behind 21 years ago, and Harry Potter is less than happy to go back to it.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Merlin or Harry Potter.

* * *

**Author's Note**:

Hiya! This is my first story using FanFic, I hope you will enjoy it! It's a follow on from the two stories of Harry Potter and Merlin. Merlin's character is far into the future, and for Harry's it's 21 years later. It mainly revolves around Merlin, but I'm going to try and make Harry someone he will rely upon to complete his new destiny.

I'm going to try and update it with a new chapter, within a few days, but it won't always be that quick.

Please, review/follow/favorite

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**Prologue**

"He is the once and future king." That's what Kilgharrah had said. Well, talk about bloody future; he was over a thousand years into it! But, Merlin was still waiting, still wondering. Would Arthur ever come back? Would his master ever return? Or, was the story that Kilgharrah had told him, just that, a story?

The druids had said to wait when the lightning had struck. So he had waited, and waited, all the while watching, as the world and its people rushed by him. Only he had stayed the same. The matter that had made up Merlin all those years ago was still there. It had not altered in the slightest. He, using nothing but his will, had fought to maintain his original mind set, and so far he was winning. All the sarcasm, all the witty humour, all the banter that was still there, the only thing left now was Arthur.

His body, on the other hand, well that he could not explain, it hadn't changed in the least; those sharp cheek bones, which should have been saggy, wrinkled skin; those piercing, blue eyes which should have been dull and lifeless. Yes, he knew exactly what he should have looked like, after all he'd seen it before more times than cared to imagine. It seemed his body, like the old religion _just was_.

No, those elements that had come together to make Merlin refused to change. He made sure of that not only for himself, but for Arthur, however long it might be before he got bored of whatever he was doing and decided to help Merlin, because Merlin _needed_ help. God knows he needed help.

_Just was_. Those words sent a chill down his spine. _Was_, He hated the word. What was; what had been. His past, Camelot's past, and the old religion? Even that was so very nearly past…. The thought made his breath catch in his throat, and his heart beat a little faster.

"Oh, Arthur please hurry up! Our time's running out. Everyone's time's running out." He whispered. Then, with a sigh, rolled his eyes "Talking to yourself now are you? Oh great!"

* * *

It was that time of the week again. Harry sighed and slouched back in his chair; even Hermione seemed dubious, it was, after all History of Magic class. In all his time at Hogwarts Harry had never once enjoyed the lesson. Taught by the ghost of professor Binns, it was not renowned in Hogwarts as being the most inspiring class and all of the students, even Hermione it seemed, hated it.

Two minutes later, Professor Binns drifted in, head floating from side to side, not taking notice of any of the already bored students that surveyed him. He hovered over his chair, cleared his throat and begun. Harry groaned, taking out his books, he prepared himself for a full hour monotonous copying and reciting. His head already hurt from the mere thought of it.

Hours later, or was it minuets? He couldn't tell. Harry snapped out of a day dream. The professor's voice had become obscenely high after the mention of Morgan Le Fay, it seemed the ghost didn't much approve of the age old witch, and was showing this by making his voice so high that at some points it seemed as though a mouse had got into the room.

Today's lesson was on Merlin, an area of history that Harry had thought he would find most interesting. Alas, the old wizard's story, like many others recited by Binns, took to the place in Harry's head where all his thoughts were a blurred mash of boredom.

"Merlin, also known as Emrys, was the most powerful sorcerer that ever lived." The ghost droned on "In his time he defeated all manner of creatures, whilst, at the same time tutoring the young Arthur Pendragon. Arthur looked up to the wizard and took every lesson as a blessing. Nowhere days Merlin spends most of his time is solitude and rarely appears in public-." And, so on and so forth Harry began to delve back into his subconscious, his eyes closing; he caught one last slice of sentence before falling asleep.

"….and, so, Merlin never returned to Camelot." Then he was gone.

* * *

"Bye mum, bye dad" Lily said, kissing her parents one last time before hopping onto the train.

"I don't know what they're going to do without us -" James whispered "rattling around in that house all alone, they'll go stir crazy, we'll come back and the house will have burnt down!"

"Oy! I heard that!" said Ginny, as she embraced her two boys, Albus stifling a laugh as he too hopped onto the train. All three waved goodbye, steam beginning to rise in their nostrils. Harry put an arm around Ginny, and seeing the growing look of disgust on James's face, kissed her. James shook his head, and to further show his objection, abruptly stopped waving. Out of the corner of his eye Harry could see Ron laughing, and then they were gone, and that was it. All three of Harry's children had left for Hogwarts, and James was right, what would they do in a big house all on their own?

Slowly, they joined the others; Harry could see Hermione's eyes filling with tears. Her youngest , Hugo had just left too, meaning apart from their jobs her and Ron would have no other responsibilities, Harry tried not to laugh, his friend was immensely hard working, and she liked it that way. Ron on the other hand, seemed to be relieved. He loved his kids, Harry knew that, but his companion often complained about how much work they all were.

Even so, Harry knew the next term was going to be hard a hard one, maybe they all needed a holiday; he couldn't see Hermione jumping at the idea, but Ginny and Ron on the other hand. Harry had never really had much of a holiday, apart from the odd capping trip, where it had constantly rained; he was pretty hard done by in that area. Yes, that was an idea, when he got home he would ask them. Just the four of them all together, Harry couldn't wait.


	2. Chapter 1: When Lightning Strikes

**Author's Note:**

Okay, here's the first chapter, I'm actually really excited about this one, so I hope you enjoy it too.

Please, review/Follow/Favorite, I'd like to know what you think of the story so far so please review, I don't mind constructive criticism.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 1: When Lightning Strikes**

-February 14th, 1020

The dawn brought a cold, February morning. Merlin's breath hung in the air like tendrils of smoke. The morning sun broke only by the sharp, point of the tower, made the lake shimmer like diamonds striking its surface. The trees, covered in frost, were bare; any leaves that may have clung to them had gone by the coming of October.

Something tugged at Merlin's heart strings. He hated this place, it hurt too much. Memories clung to it, like the ivy that climbed tower's walls. The memories of the people he'd lost; Freya, Lanselot and finally…..Arthur. Merlin had never been able to shake away the feeling that he'd failed them. That he'd failed Camelot.

Camelot, Merlin sighed, after Arthur died he'd never returned, he'd seen no point. But, now, as he looked over the lake, he came to regret that decision. He had, had friends there, not just Arthur, but Leon and Percival too, not to forget Gwen and Gaius; Gaius after all had been like a father to him. Merlin shook his head, whatever had possessed him to leave and not return? Greif, or was it fear?

A tear trickled down his face, as he pulled his coat around him. He wanted to scream but no noise came out, he wanted to pound the ground, but all he could do was stand there, shivering.

Why was he here again? He didn't know, because he was right, this place was too painful. It was as though something in his subconscious had wanted him to be there, even though every other atom in his body did not. Whatever it was had drawn him to this place, no matter how painful it might be. Maybe it was his magic, he was a servant of the Old Religion and this was Avalon, so something to do with that must have pulled him here, but why? Was something going to happen here? Something, important, something that he, Emrys had to see?

Merlin sat down; the ground was cold, hard. He wrapped an arm round his knees and tenderly placed a hand on the ground. Slowly, he splayed his fingers, eyes closed, reaching out; his breathing steady. Underneath the lids his eyes glowed orange.

Then he sagged. Nothing, the magic here was the same as it had always been. Merlin closed his eyes against yet another painful memory.

He shivered, beginning to feel cold, very cold. Jumping up he began to bounce, his magic tingling inside him, helping.

Then, without warning, it happened. Merlin was knocked down by some invisible force. Lying with his back flat to the ground, he opened his eyes. Clouds covered the sky, deathly black they billowed over the sun, smothering it and in that brief moment it became night again. Or, so it looked. The clouds were so dark, so thick.

As merlin looked on, he became aware of a slow pulsing, the clouds were pulsing! Power pumped through them, like blood to the hart. This was the work of the Old Religion, Merlin could feel it, and he could also feel that it wasn't very happy, angry even. They had angered it.

It began to rain, pelting Merlin's face and body, soaking him in seconds. Getting up, he put his palm to his forehead (the magic used in doing this was giving him a full on headache) and, blinking against the rain, as he took another look up to the sky.

"Oh hell!" he cursed, he'd never seen a storm like it, short, sharp, bursts of light sizzled from one cloud to the next, like they were feeding the great beasts, as each cloud seemed to be gaining in size by the second.

The frost that had covered the trees was gone, swept away by the rain that bombarded Avalon, like miniature bombs, banishing the diamonds that minuets ago had danced on the lake's surface. The land looked dead, blues and whites had been replaced with solemn blacks and browns, which covered Avalon obscuring it and all its beauty.

Abruptly Merlin took a step back.

Just for a moment it had been there, lightning that had made for the water, slicing through it like a dagger.

Then again, closer this time, Merlin shielded his eyes from the light, within seconds a third.

And that's when Merlin realised. The bolts were making for the tower.

"N…NO!" His voice shook, there was nothing he could do, not against this, then came the forth strike. Merlin was blown off his feet, and when he landed, Avalon was no more.

* * *

- September 27th, almost a millennium later.

"Merlin" A voice had woken him. It had whispered urgency, and now, as Merlin stared up at Glastonbury Tor, he began to wonder why. Avalon had lost all its magical properties long ago, but looking at it now he was surprised at how little it had changed. Of course the lake had gone, Glastonbury had long since lost any high ground that may have supported water, but the tower on the other hand….

"Ahh, Glastonbury Tor!" A man stood by his side, he too examining the grate hill that stood before them. He was old, not as old as Merlin, obviously, but then who was. Merlin nodded, a little shocked at the sudden interruption of his thoughts; the man in question had turned his attention away from the Tor and was now polishing a button on his coat, seemingly disinterested in the towering hill that stood before him.

"Come here often." It wasn't a question, more of an observation, but the man answered anyway.

"Oh yes, all the time I like places of historical value, they keep me at peace with the world, something that most people your age just don't appreciate." Merlin gave him a short, sideways look, as he tried to hold back a sarcastic comment that had just entered his head. The man supposedly hadn't noticed the pained expression on his face, as he continued speaking. "How about you, have you been here before?"

"Well I -"

"No I don't suppose you have." The man said, giving no time for Merlin to answer the question. "A bit young aren't you for this sort of stuff? Shouldn't you be skate boarding or whatever you kids do these days?" Merlin frowned.

"I'm twenty eight." or at least that was the age he had been when he'd left Camelot. The man adjusted his spectacles.

"Oh, well, you look younger." Merlin allowed himself a smile. If only he knew by how much.

"Oh it wasn't a compliment." The man said, catching Merlin's expression. "With age brings wisdom." Merlin raised an eyebrow.

"It also brings wrinkles." He answered trying not to laugh at the man's expression.

"Yes well," he said, a little bemused. "I don't suppose you know what that's called." Merlin frowned, was this man feeling the need to prove himself?

"It's St. Michael's Tower," Merlin said, he had picked up a leaflet at the local tourist centre.

"Yes that's right, it's an old church, built sometime in the 14th century, though they think the design may have come from an earlier tower the once stood there."

"Oh," The man seemed pleased with the reply, and without saying another word, he marched off head held high.

Not that Merlin took any notice, he was too busy staring at the tower, it all made sense now. He had wondered how the old tower had endured through the storm. Upon seeing it today he had supposed only its turret had been knocked off, though had wondered why, with the force of that blast, no more damage had been done.

"Merlin" A voice broke through his thoughts "Merlin" There it was again. He was closer to it now than he was this morning, it was louder. "Merlin" The voice belonged to a woman, Merlin thought he recognised it, it triggered a memory deep inside him, but Merlin couldn't think who it was. "Merlin," He began to home in on it, walking closer to the Tor, he could see a figure now; they were wearing a purple, silk dress they're hair fell perfectly below their shoulders. And in that instant, his heart leapt.

"Freya?" He ask, not sure if he should believe it or not. The figure nodded, and Merlin, trying not to cry ran towards her, opening his arms ready to hug her, but as he did so, he fell forward. Looking up, he could see Freya had tears in her eyes.

"Merlin I'm not really here." She sobbed, Merlin wanted to touch her, reassure her. But he couldn't. He half reached out his hands, and then, realising that it was no use, put them to his forehead, heart bursting. A tear rolled down Freya's cheek.

"Hey, it's ok," Merlin said, sniffing, but a he had a lump in his throat, then he swallowed, trying to calm himself down.

"Merlin I've missed you." Her arms twitched, as though they wanted to reach out to him.

"I've missed you too" Merlin's voice shook, but he smiled all the same. She sat down, Merlin followed her lead, but as he did so, he noticed a rose in her hand. "Remember when I gave you that strawberry?" He said nervously and she smiled, playing with the rose.

"Merlin I'm proud of you"

"How? I failed Arthur, I failed Camelot." He sighed, voicing for the first time what had been deep inside him for so long.

"You haven't"

"Freya I have, I was supposed to protect Camelot's king, I was supposed to protect my friend," He looked down, not wanting to look her in the eye. "I failed."

"Merlin look at me," Her voice was soft, he forced himself to look and holding his gaze she said, "You haven't failed them, not yet." Merlin stared at her. Whatever could she mean?

Then Freya let out a gasp.

"Merlin we have little time left. When the waters drained from Avalon I gave the sword to someone, so to protect it, for I could no longer. They're name was Godric Gryffindor, you must find it, and bring it to the Isles of the Blessed, when the veil between this world and the spirit world is at its weakest. On the stroke of midnight you must use your magic to force it into the ground and only if you complete that will Arthur return. After this is done, you have seventy five days to convince the Old Religion to stay, otherwise, on the anniversary of Avalon's death the world will be no more." Freya finished.

"Thank you" He whispered.

"No it was the least I could do." She smiled, her shape was thinning out, Merlin could almost see through her. "One last thing the sword will not look as it did in Arthur's time, only when it is reunited with its true master will it take its original form. Good luck Merlin, I know one day, we will meet again."

She disappeared, tears threatening to fill Merlin's eyes; he began to take in the news. She must have meant Samhain, the time when we are closest to our ancestors. He remembered when Morgana had used that day to bring a plague of the dead upon the world. This was going to be dangerous, but then what did he have to lose?

Merlin began walking; ever since the storm he had been able to feel the earth's clock coming to an end, and for the first time, he had the power to do something to stop it.

* * *

Finally, October the 1st. Harry sighed with happiness, he hadn't felt so excited in a long time, the ministry had allowed the four of them extra time off work, and they were all ready for four weeks in the sun. Harry smiled Canary Islands in Spain, a place where it seemed to be sunny all of the time, he felt like a little kid again, nothing, and he meant nothing, could stop him from going on this holiday.

It was a cold October day, the sun, that still managed to shine through the trees, reflected off Ron's new, muggle car, that in a few hours they would be driving to the air port in.

The four of them sat in the kitchen drinking tea, suit cases already in the car. Harry could feel the excitement buzzing around the room.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

"Who could that be?" Ginny asked, a frustration in her voice, they were just about to leave, they didn't need this! She got up and walked over to the door.

"Yes?" Harry could hear her asking, "What?" A pause, "If you're trying to sell something we're not interested!" Another pause, "Who are you…No really?" and then, "Fine, you can speak to my husband, but quickly mind we have to leave in half an hour."

Ginny walked in, a young man in his late twenties or early thirties trailing behind her.

"He thinks he's merlin," she said, sarcasm in her voice.

"Right?….." Ron was the first to speak; he didn't seem to hold well with what he called 'nutters'.

"Ron! Hermione hissed." She got to her feet and stood closer to the strange man.

"Is everything okay, do you need help?" The man gave her a look as if to say,' I'm not a baby,' and opened his mouth.

"In actual fact, I do." He looked at Harry. "You're Harry Potter aren't you?"

"What do you want?" Harry shot.

"I'm Merlin-" The man began.

"Sure you are!" Ron cut in. 'Merlin' shook his head.

"This is important!"

"Oh has the Loch Ness Monster escaped?"

"I don't know maybe we should check down the plug hole?" Their visitor spat back gesturing at Ron's head.

"Ron let him speak or we'll miss our flight!" said Ginny.

"Thank you," The so called 'Merlin' said, "as I was saying, I'm Merlin and I know it's hard to believe-" he paused and then blurted out "but I am the real Merlin. I've come here because I need your help; the Old Religion is leaving the earth, and -"

"We saw Merlin at Dumbledore's funeral," Harry said "he's an old man." He remembered Hagrid pointing the wizard out to him.

"I use something called an aging spell for public events." 'Merlin' rolled his eyes, "If you don't believe me then-"

"Why?" Harry said trying to speed the conversation up.

"What?"

"Why use an aging spell, why not turn up like this?"

"To keep out of the public eye, stop people asking questions; so I can live my life in peace."

"Show us."

"I don't -" He seemed unsure.

"Show us or you're out!" said Ron, losing his patience.

"Fine then." He placed his hands in front of him, staring straight forward; his voice deepening. He spoke in a language Harry had never heard before. "Miht dagena, bepecce me. Adeaglie pisne gast min freondum ond min freondum!" For a moment the man's eyes flashed orange. Harry took a long, hard breath; composing himself.

"So this Old Religion, is it important?"

The man that now stood before him was old; wrinkles covered his bare skin, his hair was white and brittle, and when he spoke, his voice shook.

"Important? Oh yes."


	3. Chapter 2: Excalibur

**Author's Note:**

Hey, this is the new chapter, okay so I know it's late and I know it's short but what I've decided to do is write smaller chapters to make it more manageable for myself. I have school, and god knows what else so I've been finding it quite hard but this way I'll be able to get it to you easier. I've already written the next bit, hence why this is so late, so that should be up fairly quickly.

Hope you enjoy this. XD

Please,** Review**/Favorite/Follow

Please tell me if I've switched tenses as well, because I seem to do that without noticing, hopefully I haven't done it in this one, but y'know, I try.

If you do any of these, if you read it even, thank you! xx

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**Chapter 2: Excalibur**

"The Old Religion is the one thing that binds this earth and all its contents together, without it you and I can only imagine the consequences" Merlin paced the room, his normal, young self-back in play. He hated that old body; it reminded him of how old he really was, and of how many people he'd lost in the process.

"It's the 5th element, of course many none magic folk have never agreed with that for obvious reasons, but the truth is the Old Religion, magic, us, we are all elements." Merlin noticed he'd used the word 'we'. Realising that in actual fact it was true, his magic acted on instinct to protect him, and so had the Old Religion, it had done what it 'thought' to be a good way of protecting itself and its kin, even if it had a weird way of showing the latter.

"I need you to help me convince it to stay." He looked around at the bewildered expressions on the other four's faces.

"And how exactly do we do that?" Harry asked. Merlin linked his fingers round the back of his neck, and trying not to look any of them in the face he said:

"I don't know." He watched as, the other four rolled their eyes and began to sag back in their chairs. Merlin bit his lip; this wasn't going as well as he'd hoped. "But I know where to start." That caught their attention.

"Go on," Said Hermione. Merlin nodded to her in thanks,

"We need Arthur back, only then can we go about, well, whatever we're supposed to be doing." He said, cringing slightly 'whatever we're supposed to be doing'. Rubbish.

"So that's where you come in, have you ever heard of the sword of Gryffindor?" He said hoping these were the right people to ask, there was no doubt they'd know about the sword, but it didn't mean they were willing to help.

Okay, so maybe he could have done this quest on his own, just maybe, but that was doubtful and what if someone at Hogwarts recognised him. No, this way was safer, and in the long run he would need someone like Harry. Merlin himself had seen what the wizard could do.

As Merlin mentioned the sword he saw recognition flash through his associate's faces. Harry nodded,

"What, do you need that for?" He sounded suspicious, like Merlin had come to steal the sword. In a way he had, but it was Arthur's sword, forged in the dragon's breath, it belonged to Arthur, only Arthur, and it was Merlin's job to find it for him.

"Do you know about the history of the sword?" Merlin asked, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione nod,

"It was given to Godric Gryffindor, by a stranger, who told him to look after it until its true owner has returned. It's been at Hogwarts ever since." At the last sentence, she received a meaningful glare from, her friends.

Merlin ignored them, and keeping his eyes on Hermione, he said,

"So you're probably aware of the legends of the lady of the lake?" He asked, and she nodded again.

"She was the protector of Arthur's sword; the Excalibur."

Merlin smiled, this girl was very well informed for one so young. Then he remembered, she would be in her late thirties. To 'normal people' she wasn't that young, and she defiantly was no longer a girl.

She was clever though, and as a few second ticked by he saw realisation flash in her face,

"You're saying the two swords are one of the same?"

Merlin smiled, "That's exactly what I'm saying." But, in his approval for the young witch, he had managed to forget the trio that looked on in complete bewilderment.

"How is that possible?" Merlin looked round. Raising his eyebrow, he addressed the pretty, ginger women.

"How is that possible?" he repeated, he doubted possible came into it, given all he'd been through.

"How can a sword live through millenniums?"

"A millennium," Hermione cut in, but looking around at her friend faces she said, "Not that, that matters" Merlin gave her a short, tight smile, he wondered if that was her idea of help.

Then, looking at Ginny he said, "The sword's bound to Arthur it will only age when Arthur ages."

"So in a way you and the sword are the same?" the voice belonged to Hermione…..Again.

"What?" Merlin asked.

"Neither of you age, meaning it's not the just the sword that's bound to Arthur, it's you too." She had a point. Merlin had never thought of it like that, he'd never thought of himself as Arthur's, and he didn't like to think he was Arthur's but, even so, she did have a point.

Merlin chewed the inside of his cheek, "I've never actually thought of it like that," he admitted.

"But I'm right though aren't I, it's all to do with Arthur, it always has been, and always will be."

"How can a person belong to another person?" Ron had crossed his arms, as though still denying Merlin was actually there.

"Marriage." Hermione looked over to Ron, a playful smile at her lips.

"I am not married to Arthur!" Merlin exclaimed. No, he wasn't homophobic, he believed all types of people should be allowed equality; anyone would after what he'd been through, but Arthur, really?

Hermione laughed "I was just proving that it is possible!" she said cheerily, seeming to forget what this whole convocation was about, just the possible death of the earth. No bigy.

It wasn't her fault though; Merlin had let it stray slightly away from the point. Maybe he should…..

"We have five minutes" Ginny had just noticed the clock, Merlin had to convince them fast, otherwise in five minutes, they would be gone and his chance with them.

"You need to help me," Merlin said, letting panic resonate in his voice, "if you don't this is over, it's all over,"

Hermione nodded, "I'm in,"

"You trust him?" Ron looked at her, confusion mingled with annoyance.

"Ron we have to, this isn't about us; it's about the greater good!" Merlin raised an eyebrow; that had sounded ever so slightly cheesy.

"But what if he's lying?" Ron again,

"We don't have a choice Ron!"

"Fine." Ron looked like a stubborn five year old, arms crossed, a scowl on his face, "Fine, I'll help"

Okay, so that was two of them, but he could see Harry fidgeting, his eyes flitting to the clock, this holiday must mean a lot to him.

"Ginny?" Harry asked

"I think we have to dear," her eyes were soft, but at the same time firm, she knew what had to be done.

Harry got up, hands clenched into fist. "Right," he began to pace "….Right," then turning to Merlin and he looked him straight in the eye and said, "You promise me this isn't a wind up."

Merlin held his gaze "I promise"

Harry closed his eyes and sighed, and when they opened again, Merlin saw something new, sparkling in them.

Harry took a sharp intake of breath

"Well we better get going then."


	4. Chapter 3: The Time of Our Lives

**Author's Note: **

Hey, I promised you this one quickly, so here it is.

The title of this chapter is a song title (We have had the time of our lives, Tyrone Wells) it's worth checking out, there's also a few Merlin videos on youtube using this song which are amazing, so after you've read this get on there.

I would love some more reviews, I love reading them and it's quite disheartening if you post a chapter and it doesn't get reviewed, even if it's constructive criticism I won't mind in fact it would be great, again please tell me if I switch between tenses.

Please,** Review**/Favorite/Follow Thank You, if you've done any of that so far, it means a lot :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Merlin or Harry Potter

* * *

**Chapter 3: We have had the time of our lives**

"Thank you"

His eyes rolled up, his expression vacant; his lips were flecked with white, his skin as pale as a dead man.

"Arthur? No. Arthur? Arthur!" Merlin shouted the last word; he couldn't lose him, not after all this time!

Just for a moment Arthur's lids rolled up, and in that moment relief swelled within him, he could still do this, he could still save him.

"Stay with me, Arthur." but Arthur's eyes, they were closing, "No." Merlin could almost feel the last breath leave his friend's lips. Merlin tried pulling him to the lake, tried so hard, but Arthur was too heavy. Stopping, he put an arm round his friend, and gave out an exhausted sob. "Arthur!" There was no hope, none….Unless.

"O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes." Heaving, Merlin put his forehead against Arthur's, and rested there until he heard the beat of giant wings.

* * *

His muscles burned, but still he found the strength that seemed to come from nowhere to pull his friend towards the dishevelled, little rowing boat that bobbed up and down at the shore.

"Merlin," the dragon's voice emanated from inside its throat, and though through it was strained Merlin could hear true pity in it. "There is nothing you can do."

Merlin looked up at the great beast; Kilgharrah looked tired, more tired than Merlin had ever seen him before; he wished there could have been another choice then to send for him.

"I failed?" Merlin could feel the lump in his throat.

"No young warlock, for all that you have dreamt of building has come to pass."

Merlin roared in agony, pulling his friend up to his full height.

"I can't lose him! He's my friend!" Merlin couldn't believe it, Arthur couldn't be dead! He couldn't!

"Though no man, no matter how great can know his destiny. Some lives have been foretold Merlin."

Merlin lowered his head to stare down at his friend; the dragon couldn't be telling the truth, they were two sides of a coin; that was what Kilgharrah had said, and Merlin couldn't imagine what a broken coin looked like.

"Arthur is not just a king," The dragon's voice rung through his ears.

"He is the once and future king." Merlin had heard that line before, but only now did it make sense. 'The once and future king'

"Take heart, for when Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again." The dragon paused

"It has been a privilege to have known you young warlock, the story we have been a part of, will live long in the minds of men."

And with that the dragon flew away, leaving Merlin alone, all alone. He took one last look at the huge form that flew in the sky, knowing it would be his last, and then pulled his attention back to Arthur.

So that was it. No more chances, not any longer. Merlin laid his friend on the floor, feeling as though his heart was bleeding. How many people had he lost now? All the people that he had most cared about all of which had passed; apart from his mother; apart from Gaius. Maybe it would be better if he didn't see the two again, he was, and always had been a magnet for trouble. He'd always been the bad luck charm, which the people he'd loved could have done without.

With a sniff Merlin picked the sword off the ground, he raised it up so that the point was level with his brow. His eyes surveyed every part of it, remembering the time when he had cast it in dragon's fire, remembering all that it had done, remembering all that he had done, all over now.

Slowly, he tested its weight, and for one last time read the inscription, then raised it high above his head and tossed it towards the vast waters.

He watched as the sword, driven by his own strength, summersaulted through the air, and as it fell, a hand, born from the lake rose up and caught it. The lady of the lake's muscles tightened at the weight of the sword, but she held firm, just for a few seconds, keeping it there, as if to say 'I understand' before lowering her arm, keeping the sword completely straight, until they both were fully submerged in subtle waters of Avalon's boundless pool.

* * *

Arthur lay; his face even whiter than before, in the base of the little rowing boat. Merlin put his hand on his friend's brow, somehow half expecting him to sit up suddenly and start ordering Merlin around. No. That would never happen again, his king was gone. Arthur was gone.

At that, Merlin felt something uncontrollable well up inside him, he whimpered slightly, breath coming fast, he couldn't cry, not yet, and yet he couldn't stop.

He looked across the lake, still shaking, still half crying; his hands drifting slightly above the boat.

"On slipa yarest," he breathed, barely able to get the spell out. His cheeks were wet now, wet from half tears.

At the spell, the boat swiftly headed for the middle of the Lake of Avalon and that was when he started crying so hard he couldn't stop, he shook, great sobs emitting from all his being, and he sat down heavily burying his face in his hands.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry, if that was depressing, I found it quite depressing to write, but I thought it had to be done.


	5. Chapter 4: Back to Hogwarts

**Author's Note:**

Please, review, I haven't had a review in so long.

Thank you to everyone who's followed/Favorited/reviewed so far, seriously you've been great and I haven't really thanked you so far and I'm sorry about that.

Please, **Review**/Favorite/Follow

Again, the whole tenses thing, can you tell me? Even if it's just; you got your tenses wrong.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Merlin or Harry Potter

* * *

**Chapter 4: Back to Hogwarts**

"Smith, Leo"

His name was read out by a hairy, giant of a man who towered over the first years; in fact the man seemed to tower over just about everyone and everything in the great hall in which he stood.

Leo wobbled up the few steps that lead to a rickety, old stool, which stood, uninvitingly at the centre of everyone's eye line, and when he said everyone, he meant everyone; he had never seen so many people. All the resident students of Hogwarts were in that hall, and they all were staring at him. Leo shook; he hated being the centre of attention.

As Leo sat on the stool, he looked up at the giant who briskly picked up the scruffy, flee ridden hat, and put it clumsily on his head. Leo gulped, he felt the hat's eyes on him, 'There's nothing hidden in your head, the sorting hat can't see….' Leo had heard the hat's speech, and for some reason, those words rung through his head more than the rest making his heart throb.

"Oh dear, do I make you nervous?" Leo jumped, where had that come from?

"I can see why though," the voice continued, Leo looked around; non-one else had heard that, they were all still at their tables waiting for something to happen, then he realised, the hat of course! Only an idiot would have missed that. But what did it mean; 'I can see why though'?

"Don't worry, don't worry, I am sworn to secrecy, but your head, I've never seen one as enthralling as yours before, not since…well that's another story." At that the hat seemed to quiver, something Leo had never felt nor seen a hat do before, but then he'd never heard of a hat that could speak before.

"What are you talking about?" Leo screwed up his eyes, as if he were trying to force the words out. The hat shook its point, it seemed nervous.

"You don't know? Well I wouldn't blame you for forgetting, but no we've wasted enough time as it is!" The hat seemed very eager to change the subject.

"Let's see," it continued "you're incredibly brave, very loyal and extremely selfless; you'd have all the makings of a great Gryffindor if it weren't for….." The hat paused, and for a second it seemed nervous again, "no I've made up my mind, GRYFFINDOR!"

The last word was shouted so all the hall could hear, the table on the far left cheered, and supposing that was where he was meant to go, Leo almost chucked the hat off and hastened over to his cheering classmates.

Was it his imagination, or in the last moments that he'd had it on his head, had the hat sighed? Was it glad to be rid of him? And what secret was so bad that even Leo himself had forgotten it? He'd only been here a few hours and already he was confused.

Leo shook it off, maybe this time the hat had been wrong, even a talking hat couldn't be infallible; it must have its off days. No, that was it; the old hat had just got confused, there was nothing strange or different about Leo, he was just an average eleven-year-old boy; well apart from the fact that he was a wizard, of course.

* * *

Leo sat down, but on doing so, he felt eyes on the back of his head. On instinct he turned.

"Yes?" A black haired boy looked back; he was around 15 years of age, medium height, and with piecing, blue eyes.

"You're in my sister's year." It wasn't a question.

"And?" Leo was confused what was this boy getting to?

"Keep your hands off her okay? Or you'll have me to answer to!" Leo must have looked stunned, because a girl sitting across from him gave the dark haired boy a shove.

"Lay off him James, he's only a first year." She said, sounding more grown up than she looked.

"And you're only a third year so butt out!" Exclaimed the so called 'James'

"And yet she's still cleverer than you." Another voice now, the owner had jet black hair and a cheeky grin.

"Stop being a prat Albus, I'm trying to look after our sister!"

"I can look after myself!" A small girl, around Leo's age had been watching the conversation, "You're talking as if I'm not here," She looked at the older boy "and just 'cause you're older, doesn't mean you can control me James!"

"Well said Lily, but shush!" The other girl hissed, and they all looked over to the waning crowed of first years which remained in the middle of the hall.

"Weasley, Hugo!" The giant grunted, and a tall boy that looked very similar to the girl that had defended Leo, stepped up to the hat. The hat barely touched his head before shouting "Gryffindor!" The black haired boy next to him laughed,

"Oh he's defiantly a Weasley!" He grinned, and looking back at Leo, he said, "I give you permission to be friends with him."

"Stop being an ass James, he's allowed to be friends with whomever he wants!" the girl looked at Leo, "I'm Rose," she reached across, shaking his hand.

"Leo"

"Well, Leo these are my cousins Albus and James, feel free to ignore James as much as possible he has the tendency to be a bit of a clot pole!" At that a chill ran down Leo's spine, where had he heard…..For a moment the world went fussy, the boy, Hugo, sat down receiving a strong pat on the back from his older cousin, but Leo ignored them, something, someone had caught his eye, slowly he raised his head to the teacher's desk.

Then, suddenly, he remembered.


	6. Chapter 5: Finding the Way

**Author's Note:**

Hiya, so first of all I apologize for the late arrival of this one, I had no internet for a week because I was on holiday, I also thought I might be able to write in that time, but it seems my mum and dad would actually prefer me to go on a twelve mile walk with them instead... Oh god, bad memory's, never again!

Second, I would like to apologize for the slightly cheese title, it's bad I know, but I honestly couldn't think of anything else apart from 'The Library' (creative right?)

* * *

**Chapter 5: Finding the Way**

The Bodleian library loomed in front of him, it's very essence leaked grandeur ; the place buzzed with knowledge, students bustled in and out, all in smart clothing, seemingly too busy to notice Merlin and his companion, who herself was positively beaming at the prospect of spending a few hours in a room full of books. Merlin on the other hand, was not.

"Why are we here again Hermione?" He sighed,

"You'll find out, and when you do, you'll love it!" She said; a lilt in her voice, as she bounced through the door of the great building, reminding Merlin of a little kid in a sweet shop.

"Will I?"

This was a muggle library, and though this building somewhat reminded him of the old days, there wasn't much in the muggle world that he liked, let alone loved, call him old fashioned but, he didn't trust it, any of it.

"Come on Hermione just tell me!"

But to that, Hermione gave a dragon grin and tapped her nose, making Merlin roll his eyes, god he hated it when people did that!

He had no choice to follow her though, so he walked, the emerald green carpet soft beneath his feet, as they turned down yet another ally of book shelves.

And that was when Merlin felt it, a tingling sensation that knitted the very air itself together; it was drawing him in, converging at the centre of a red and green, stain glass window. Merlin looked at Hermione who gave him a cute smile as if to say 'happy now?' and head held high, she walked toward a man in his late forties; which was weird, as Merlin could have sworn he hadn't been there a second ago.

The man looked up and nodded at them. Hermione cleared her throat slightly, as though at the beginning of a speech.

"Am I granted access today Baldwin?" She smiled curtly at him, something in her air had changed; she had become more formal, uptight even.

"Of course Miss Granger," he said in a rather obsequious tone, "but whom may I ask, is your companion?"

There was something odd about this man- Baldwin, was what Hermione had called him- but Merlin couldn't quite put his finger on it; was it in the way he deliberately slurred his words, which made Merlin uneasy? He didn't know. A shiver ran down his spine, he didn't like this man, not one bit.

"He's a friend; he came to help me out with something."

"Well I'm going to have to seem some sort of identification..." The man drawled.

Hermione tilted her head slightly, as if in some way she was disappointed by the man.

"Does the ministry not trust me? I helped make this library did I not? Or have they forgotten that?" She fluttered her eye lashes at the odd man, who sighed and raised an eyebrow.

"No of course not Miss Granger, security measures that's all,"

"So am I allowed through?"

The man smiled thinly and lent back against the wall, but as he did two huge doors seemed to grow behind him, they were made of solid oak and ended in a dome like point, reminding Merlin of the doors to the great hall of Camelot.

Baldwin clicked his fingers and disappeared, as the doors swung slowly open.

* * *

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, letting her body sag back to its usual posture. Boy, she hated that man.

She turned round to see Merlin staring.

"It's beautiful," He muttered. Hermione looked up at the ceiling; it was night in the library, stars twinkled and purple streaks broke up the black of the sky, candles bobbed, bathing the library in a warm glow.

"I designed it to look like the ceiling at Hogwarts," Slowly she began walking. "It has its own time zone- sometimes its night, sometimes its day- it really depends on the mood."

She looked at Merlin and laughed, his expression was a mask of total bewilderment.

"I know it seems weird, a library with a mood, but there's no need to look like that, I'm sure you've come across a lot more in your time!"

She watched as Merlin shook his head,

"It's not that, it's just… You designed this?!" He looked awestruck, as if he had not expected extent of her skill, Hermione forced back a smile; this was not the time to get full of herself, but in a way really was, she had impressed Merlin, Merlin! The greatest warlock that had ever lived!

"When we were fighting the dark lord I often thought we needed a safe place, a place where we could find events, events that could help us with the situation we were in. This library contains the history of magic, all of it, and not just the stuff people learn in class, every book, every legend, it's all in here."

"All of it? Even…" Merlin trailed off, Hermione sensed the apprehension in his words.

"You don't have to read anything, not if you don't want to,"

But Merlin shook his giving a shaky smile.

"No it's okay, it's not like there's anything that could surprise me in them."

Hermione wasn't convinced, but as she looked into the face of the younger… no older man, she could see the defiance and knew his mind was made up. So, preceding forward she weaved through the book shelves, wobbling when a stack of books nearly hit her in the face, as it made its way to its destination.

After what seemed like miles, she found the place she was looking for. She gestured at a chair for Merlin to sit in then promptly sat in one herself. There were four chairs in total, all huddled in a little, circular clearing, a fire crackled warmly in its grate burnishing the small gathering point in a soft, orange light.

"What we need to do is find a way of convincing the old religion to stay, right?"

Merlin nodded; his brow furrowing.

"What I'm hoping is that we can find our answer here, in these books"

"Right…" His voice was sceptic, Hermione knew that, but she was raring to go, so getting up she gestured at the clock that was embedded in the wall behind them.

"We meet back hear at five o'clock okay?"

"umm, Hermione?"

"Yes?" She sighed,

"How exactly are we supposed to find anything in here, there must be millions of books?"

"Let the library lead you, it knows where you want to go." She started walking but seeing Merlin raise an eyebrow she said,

"Just trust me, oh and don't give up if you don't get there the first time, we still haven't perfected that charm yet."

And, with that she walked off, leaving Merlin to stare after her in disbelief.


	7. Chapter 6: Between Dreams and Reality

**Author's Note:**

Okay I admit it, I'm completely useless, I'm really late this time arn't I? I do apologise yet again for my negligence, I'm quite proud of this one though... not really sure why. Okay then hope you enjoy it.

Please Review, if you want to tell me who you think Leo is I'd love to know... then again you it might be obvious, idk. Constructive criticism is good, I know I'm not perfect, so please help me improve xx

so yeah, feel free to: follow, favorite, review means a lot.

Enjoy xx XD

Do I still need a **disclaimer**? anyway: I don't own Merlin or Harry Potter.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Between Dreams and Reality**

I had been a dream; hadn't it?

It was the day after the big feast, and Leo's first lesson was transfiguration, Leo should be excited; why wasn't he excited? All he could think about was that damn dream. Well he was pretty sure it was a dream but… Well it had felt so real, in that moment the mists of war had been rising in his nostril, adrenaline pumping through his veins an army at his side; and then? Nothing, he had woken up, sweat trickling down his brow, heart thumping in his chest.

It couldn't have been true; he was Leo, just Leo, a normal boy from a normal wizard family.

Leo allowed himself a small chuckle, 'wizard', well not completely normal then; and to think about it, his family wasn't too normal either, being adopted into a house of fifteen strong wasn't the most ordinary of starts from the majority of children, but it was less crazy than the vision he'd experienced just the day before.

* * *

The transfiguration class buzzed with anticipation, wooden desks were lined up in rows and almost all were inhabited. Leo weaved his way through the chattering students, until he found himself pulling out a stool at the very front of the classroom.

Where was the professor? He thought, surely she wouldn't want to be late to their first class of the year.

"Can I sit here?" Leo looked up, Hugo Weasly stood before him; Leo remembered the boy from the sorting last night, though he couldn't actually recall meeting him in person due to the fussiness, which unfortunately blanketed the majority of the night.

Leo shrugged, "Sure." Hugo clumsily sat down.

"Nice feast wasn't it?"

"Umm," Leo bit his lip, but forced himself to nod in agreement.

"Do you remember the…?"

"Where's the teacher?" Leo cut in smoothly, Professor McGonagall was still not here and only a solitary cat stood at the teacher's desk.

Leo watched the cat curiously, for a moment it stayed there grooming its paws, before taking a long look around and hopping onto the floor below.

As it did though, a change happened; a change that took but a split second. The cat seemed to push outward in mid-air, fur replacing itself with clothes, its claws shortening into finger nails and before Leo knew it, an elderly woman was standing before him.

"Ouch!" Hugo had elbowed him in the rib cage, but as Leo looked round, the boy crinkled his face in apology.

"Sorry, didn't mean it that hard." Leo nodded in understanding. "I knew she was gonna do that see?" Hugo whispered, "She's an animagus, you know what that is right, coming from a big wizarding family and all?" Leo nodded again, wandering when he'd told Hugo about his family, "I want to be able to do that someday!" Hugo continued, before pausing for a moment, "I've always wanted to be a dog." He said, bobbing his head dumbly up and down.

"Out of all the animals in the world, you choose a dog?" Hugo looked back at Leo and they both smirked.

"Be quiet boys," They jumped, and for a second McGonagall's old eyes burrowed into them, but as the boys stared back, they soon pounced from one place to another, observing the class; old, yet still alert.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said "Anyone messing around in this class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Leo glanced at Hugo warily and shrugged. He picked up his quill, ready to write, but as soon as he did so, it was changed into a beautiful, ornate butterfly, which rested on his fingers for a moment before flying around the class and finally out the door, leaving the eyes of eager students staring after it.

McGonagall nodded toward the direction it left in, "want to do that? Well you're going to have to listen."

They soon found out that they wouldn't be doing anything that impressive anytime soon, after making a lot of complicated notes, they were given a match and told to turn it into a needle which only Hugo, to Leo's surprise, managed receiving a small smile from the Professor as he did.

As Leo left his first ever wizarding class he was in high spirits, or he would have been if it weren't for the damn head ache that had gradually been getting worse and worse throughout the practical, until it slowly began draining the life force out of him. Leo shook his head, slipping his wand inside his bag as he did so, and as if by magic the head ache slowly ebbed away.

'Weird' he thought, but all he could do was shake off the feeling, as him and Hugo walked to their next class: - charms with the aptly named Professor Flitwick.

* * *

"Well, Mr Smith," Leo lowered his head, the head ache retreating yet again; his wand lay in pieces in front of him. Professor Flitwick, peered up at him, squinting as he adjusting the silver spectacles that settled on the bridge of his nose.

"Did you pronounce something wrong? I did tell you, be careful in your pronunciation, it is vital." He wiggled a finger at Leo, who shrugged. He didn't like the feeling of people's eyes on him.

"No sir," Hugo raised his hand, "he said everything right; heard him myself."

"Well just to be assured, Leo look at me." Leo looked down at the dwarf, who held his gaze steadily. "Now boy I want you to repeat after me wingardium leviosa!" The professor automatically moved his arms in a grand gesture as if he were really casting the spell.

Leo nodded, opening his mouth he repeated the words: "wingardium leviosa!" he couldn't help but let his eyes dart to the feather lying on the desk in front of him, but as he did gasps emitted from all around the class. On command, the feather hovered into the air, dancing in the grasp of Leo's eyes; Leo was astounded, this was him! It must be, but how?

Professor Flitwick, seemed just a bewildered as he was, the professor stood there squeaking excitably. "Well I never…" the dwarf said, voice barely audible, but just enough for Leo to hear. Leo prized his eyes away from the soft white of the feather, and looked instead at the professor.

"What is…?"

But, in that second, the bell chose it's time to ring and the moment was broken.

"Okay everybody off to break now, go on, shoo!" Flitwick's voice quivered a little, but he turned, just in time to see Leo slowly creeping out the door. "Mr Smith!" Leo stopped, nodding at Hugo to go on he turned to face the still dazed dwarf.


	8. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:**

Hiya, I'm on time for once! Yeah anyway... I'd like to say thank you for anyone who has followed/Favorited/Reviewed so far, it's really encouraging and I'm in my first community... not completely sure what that entails but anyway that's great!

Please, review/favorite/follow

Enjoy! :)

* * *

**Chapter 7: Something That Can Never Change**

It was one minuet to five and Hermione had found nothing, sighing she made her way back to the clearing and waited for Merlin's return, she watched as the seconds ticked by, those seconds becoming minuets, those minuets building up until Hermione began to wonder were the wizard was.

"Come on Merlin." She muttered to herself. Getting up, she began walking, turning right, and then left letting the library leading her on.

At long last, she turned a corner for what felt like the hundredth time and saw him. He was sitting at the end of the row of shelves, legs pulled tightly to his body, clutching an old, tattered book; every now and then he would sniff, causing a fresh tear to splash onto the page.

"Merlin?" He looked round, whipping the tears from his face; he subtly slipped the book back into the shelf behind him.

"Hermione," He looked up at the clock "Oh, ah, I'm sorry" He sniffed.

"Are you okay?" She asked, walking over to the shelf where he was now standing in front of.

"Me? No, I'm fine." He straightened up, "Did you find anything?"

Hermione didn't answer; instead she surveyed the self that Merlin had put the book onto. She tilted her head slightly, so as to read the spine of a book that matched the image in her memory.

"Merlin who's Gaius?" The spine had read 'the diary of Gaius, the court physician of Camelot' she picked up the book, tears had begun sparkling in the boys eyes again.

"Just somebody that I used to know, none really" He gulped, his lip began to quiver, but he swallowed it, running a hand through his hair as he did.

"But he's more than that isn't he?" Hermione pushed, "Merlin if you can tell anyone you can tell me."

At that, she was subject to a shaky, ambivalent stare from the boy that stood opposite her. A few seconds past like this, she could feel those deep blue eyes burrowing into her, but in a moment that stare seemed to break, Merlin sagged letting out a heavy sigh that dragged him to the floor again. Fiddling with the sleeve of his coat he said:

"When I first came to Camelot he took me in, he kept my secret, no matter how badly it hurt him," at the last words his voice broke and he buried his face in his arms.

Hermione carefully slid down beside him, lock of her long brown hair rested on his shoulder for a second before she brushed it back into place.

"You had a secret?" She asked softly,

"Magic was banded in Camelot, on pain of death, so yeah I had a secret." He mumbled into his jacket.

"I always thought Camelot thrived with magic, that's what I've been taught, ever since I was young."

"Come on Hermione," Merlin raised his head a little, "you have a whole library of facts and you choose to believe that?"

"But the Arthurian legends they're…"

"Just legends Hermione, like when you thought the real Merlin was old" Merlin pause, a smile playing at the corners of his lips "I've never been old in the a thousand years of my existence"

Hermione giggled "No I don't suppose you have" She looked him up and down, wondering if she should say anything, but like many times before her mouth was quicker than her brain,

"At school I got taught that you didn't return to Camelot after Arthur's death, is that… Is that bit true? " She blurted out.

Merlin turned his head towards her, his chest slowly rising and falling, nodding slightly he whispered:

"That bit's true," He looked back down at his feet again.

"Why?" The question hung in the air for what felt like ages, almost until Hermione thought he was never going to answer.

But then he did, shaking his head slightly, he said

"I don't even know,"

"You regret not going back?"

Merlin nodded slowly, "Every minuet"

He took a breath that came from the bottom of his lungs "I thought, there was nothing left for me there, but there was, there always had been, it was never just Arthur, I had people there, people that cared for me… I thought I didn't need them, so I left, I've spent my whole life travelling, never looking back, never staying long enough to make friends and by the time I realised I'd made a mistake, Gaius, Gwen, Percival, Leon, they all would have been dead. I didn't even go back to see my mother."

Hermione looked at him in astonishment "and you've never told anyone this?" but Merlin wasn't listening his head was back in his lap again, and his shoulders where heaving. Hermione put her arm round him, just like she had done with her children, but of course Merlin wasn't a child.

She couldn't tell how long they stayed like that, but after a while, he stopped sighing and shrugged off her arm.

She leant back against the book case, feeling awkward, what if Ron had seen her doing that? Quickly she got up and began pacing up and down, but as she did, a note fell out of the book in her hands.

"What the…?" she said to herself, and bending over, she reached out a hand to grab the piece of paper, but then she caught Merlin's eye he was staring at the note, slowly he got up.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

When he didn't answer she looked him in the face, and to her surprise he was smiling.

"Merlin?"

"We've found it Hermione; this is what I've been looking for all this time!"

He waved the note in her face, written in on the front in large, swirly handwriting was one word, and that word was Emrys.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Okay so there was a little bit of Merlin/Hermione in there, what I want to know is should I take that further? I was thinking about just leaving it but what do you think? Please **review** and tell me, thank you!


	9. Chapter 8: Remember

**Author's Note:**

Not much to say apart from the normal, thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed and favorited. THANK YOU! :3 but guys be more harsh, I need constructive criticism... your review have been lovely though 3

Also, R.I.P to Cory Monteith, gleeks we stand with you, stay strong x

Hope you enjoy 3

* * *

**Chapter 8: Remember**

Professor Flitwick walked very fast for a man of his height, he waddled along, small arms swinging at his sides, shoulders moving heavily from left to right, Leo trailing behind, trying to avoid the eyes of passing students. Where was the professor taking him?

Finally they turned a corner, Flitwick flourishing his wand as they did, and suddenly they were in another room.

Leo breathed out slowly; taking it in, the room was circular, with pillars stretching high until they reached the ceiling and curving inwards as they hit it. A chandelier hung, suspended in mid-air, the light from it glittering like fairy dust which danced in an everlasting circle until it was suffocated by the crackling flames of a fire, which was enclosed in a huge, ornate mantel piece. Above the mantel piece hung a large, silver sword, the light from the chandelier seemed to dance thicker around this object, making the sword glint in its undying light.

Slowly teachers began to arrive, all of them staring at Leo as they passed, but not saying a word.

"Sir," Leo whispered, the professor was following each of the teachers with his eyes, looking for someone; "Sir!" Leo prompted again.

"Yes boy?" He muttered, but kept his eyes trailing after the slow trickle of teachers.

"It's just; well I thought you weren't allowed to apparate in Hogwarts."

Flitwick nodded his head and said; "Yes that's absolutely right, but my boy you didn't just apparate, that was just a small spell, simple really keeps you lot… out."

Flitwick trailed off, he had caught sight of Professor McGonagall and began to briskly approach her, gesturing for Leo to follow.

"Professor!" McGonagall looked round, frowning as she spotted Leo.

"Filius, I thought I made it clear that there were to be no children in the staff room, or did that rule just happen to slip your mind?" The Professor looked down, through her spectacles at Flitwick, and when Flitwick answered, his voice shook slightly.

"No it's just… Professor, can we talk in privacy?" Flitwick looked around as if someone was listening who shouldn't be.

McGonagall sighed but nodded, "Yes of course Filius." She gestured to a woman beside her and said, "Melantha could you look after this young gentlemen whilst Professor Flitwick and I talk over something? We'll try not to be very long." And with a wave of her wand, the both of them vanished into thin air.

"Hi" Leo turned and looked up at the speaker; younger than most of the other professors, she held an air of authority about her. She was very beautiful, her hair hung in loose curls below her shoulders; her skin was pale and so were her eyes which were a stony blue. Leo frowned, something about her was familiar it nibbled at the back of his mind; they had met before, a long time ago…

"Hello?"

Leo realised he'd been staring and quickly lowered his gaze.

"Umm, hi," he muttered into his chest, but at the sound of his voice she smiled and when she did it was enchanting.

"So what's your name then? I seem to be looking after you so I might as well know." She chuckled softly.

"I'm Leo, Leo Smith."

"Well Leo nice to meet you I'm Melantha , Professor Pollywood to you; I'll be your potions mistress this year." She paused for a second, then looked back at Leo her smile warm and comforting, "So Leo, how are you finding your first day at Hogwarts?"

Leo shrugged "I ugh, umm I mean it's been good, slightly odd though." He glanced toward the place where the two professors had disappeared.

"Yes I'm sure it has." Momentarily she paused, a faraway look entering her eyes. "I think the two professors are returning." She glanced to the right, and sure enough from that direction they came, McGonagall walking tall, Flitwick at her waist.

"Where's my wand?" Leo said as they approached him.

McGonagall fixed him with a cold stare "'Where is my wand,' Professor." She corrected him.

Leo gulped, "Sorry Professor,"

McGonagall softened, "That's better; your wand is in such a state that it is beyond repair, you'll get a new one tomorrow."

McGonagall began to walk away, but Leo stopped her. "Professor if you don't mind me asking what happened to my wand?"

McGonagall shrugged, batting the question away with a flick of her wrist. "Just a malfunction with the binding, that's all, happens to wands bread even from the best of makers." And with that she walked off, but Leo couldn't help but notice the sly smile that came from Professor Pollywood, it was the type of knowing smile that told him not all of what McGonagall had said was true.

"Right, Mr Smith I'll be taking you back then, if you wish you can join your school mates for the remainder of break." Professor Fitwick waddled over to him, and promptly Leo followed, but stopped when he felt a hand on his wrist; he turned, for a moment making contact with Melantha Pollywood's cold, pale eyes but as that moment was caught, time slowed, the people around him moved at snail pace, all their sound merged into faint murmurs. Leo was caught in a daze, his head spun.

Suddenly, those murmurs were split open by a sound that was made up of half hissing, half screaming and then it hit him, a soft, but still sharp voice and though her lips weren't moving it was Melantha who spoke.

Then the spell was broken, she let go of his wrist and Leo walked on, dazed and confused, a ringing in his head.

In that moment the professor had whispered one word and one word only, _remember…_


	10. Chapter 9: Returning Home

**Author's Note: **

Heya, I would have updated this earlier, but I had no internet Yay!... I wasn't just rolling around on the floor in tears... god I'm sad, seriously though that wasn't what I did (though I may have felt like doing it) my mum and dad just took me out for long walks instead... long, long walks :/.

Aynway you don't want to know about that.

This chapter is quite short and might be boring IDK, but I swear, give me a few chapters and this story will get going properly.

Enjoy :3

* * *

**Chapter 9: Returning Home**

-October the 10th

The castle had not changed, its grandeur was still breath taking; the lights in its windows still glittered just as bright.

"How long ago was it since we were last here?" Ron asked, Harry shrugged, running a hand through his hair, the cold wind tickling the tips of his fingers.

"Five years, give or take." He answered; he and Ron had visited the school a few times before to give talks but they hadn't been back in a while.

The two had stopped after apperating to stare at the magnificent structure, but now began walking up the rickety road that lead to the castle.

Harry glance at Ron, his friend looked nervous; after all the years of knowing his friend he could recognise the expression in his face.

"Ron?" He looked warily at Harry, "What's the matter?"

Ron shrugged, "I just don't think this is right."

"Why?"

Ron straightened and pausing for a minuet he said, "Harry this was our home for seven years, people we're supposed to be able to trust work here; Neville, Hagrid. McGonagall and Flitwick they're not just our old teaches Harry, they fought beside us," Ron paused for a minute catching Harry's gaze and holding it. "And what are we doing? We're walking into their school; we're lying to our friends on the word of a man we only just met. Harry does this really seem right to you?"

Harry nodded slowly. Ron was right - how could he just waltz in there and not care about how his own friends would feel about it. The sword didn't belong to him; he couldn't just take it out of its rightful place whenever he felt like it! – But that wasn't the point…

"This is more than that Ron; this time it's more than protecting our friends, it's more than fighting for what we believe in, if we ignore this boy, it's not just our friends that fall, it's the whole world. If we ignore this boy, and he's right, there's no going back; you have to understand that."

Ron sighed and with a bow of his head he said, "I do."

* * *

"Ah, there you are!" a voice rose from above the sound of chatter, a tall man with dark blue robes darted through the untidy mass of pupils and made his way towards Harry and Ron.

"Neville!" Harry exclaimed, greeting his friend with a warm smile.

"Harry, Ron so glad you're here how long's it been?"

"Five years." Ron muttered, obviously still unsure about his motives.

"Five years! I do wish you'd come more often, it reminds me of the old days. Your kids though, I have to say Harry, that James of yours, bit of a trouble maker, extremely intelligent though. In fact all of them are proving to be very promising especially your Rose Ron, she doesn't half remind me of Hermione when she was her age." As Neville said that, Harry could see the simile growing at the corners of Ron's mouth.

"I'm not sure it that's a good thing" Ron said jokingly, but Harry knew no matter how much Ron teased his daughter inside, truly he was proud of her.

Neville lead them through the torrent of young witches and wizards on their way out to break, as he filled them in on what had been going on since they'd last seen him and before they knew it, they were in the staff room.

Familiar faces surrounded them; Not only McGonagall, Flitwick and Hagrid but also other staff that they had met on previous visits.

Hagrid was the first to approach the pair, "Harry! How nice to see ya again, look at you, I still remember the boy in the light house all those years ago you've changed so much!" The giant looked old; grey had started to mix with the browns of his beard, and his eyes, though still dark, where blood shot and tired.

Harry embraced his old friend, feeling like the child Hagrid remembered, as he was smothered in those huge arms. "Nice to see you too Hagrid," He couldn't hold back the grin as Hagrid released him.

Hagrid sighed, "So how have you been gettin' on then, trust all's well with the ministry, no problems?"

"None; the peace has never been better." Harry answered, though out of the corner of his eye he could see Ron raising his eyebrow. _Had_ never been better Harry thought to himself, the smile slowly fading from his face.

"Well that's marvellous." Hagrid said content with what Harry had said even though, maybe he shouldn't have been.

Behind him emerged the two other professors, an uncommon smile resting on McGonagall's lips.

"Harry, Ron." She nodded at them.

"Professor." Harry nodded back, regaining his smile from earlier. He nodded down at Professor Flitwick, who practically grinning back up at him.

"I trust you've been well?"

"Good thank you professor." Harry answered.

"Good, good, Harry there's someone I'd like you to meet." McGonagall gestured backward and a lady with dark, black hair appeared at her side. "This is Professor Pollywood, our new defence against the dark arts teacher."

The woman curtsied slightly, bowing her head as she did so, reminding Harry of some sort of old age princess, she defiantly looked like one, more so than a teacher at least, she was very young, younger than most in her profession at Hogwarts.

Harry bowed his head back at her and offered a hand, "Harry Potter," He said as means of introducing himself. She shook it. Harry flinched; her grip was harder than he had anticipated.

"Melantha," She said back, coolly removing her hand from his. The she looked at Ron, smiling kindly.

"Ron Weasley" Ron answered her unsaid question.

She bowed her head again, twiddling her fingertips childishly, "You'll be taking my fourth lesson today. Come with me I'll show you to my class room."

Melantha started walking, but before they could follow McGonagall stopped them.

"Harry, there's something I wish to tell you. In the ministry's eye it is not necessary for you to know a detail such as this, but scene as you will be teaching this boy I think it is. " She paused, checking to see if anyone was listening. "Meet me in my office at six."

As they walked away, Ron and Harry shared an ambivalent glance. What could McGonagall know that she felt was important enough that she felt it necessary to disobey a power such as the ministry's just to tell him? Harry could only begin to think.


	11. Chapter 10: The Power of a Name

**Author's Note: **

Hi there! Chapter 10 is here! Sorry I didn't upload earlier, I was at a scout camp for the last week. Which was fun.

Also I would like to say Thank you, you guys, 60 followers and 31 favorites! What?! And all your lovely comments, thank you so much. If you're still here, Thank you for putting up with my rubbish writing and dodgy uploads, it's really great, so thanks! :3

Also, please LISTEN!: If you haven't noticed already, this story hops backwards and forwards in time quite a lot, so in this chapter Harry and Ron aren't actually at Hogwarts yet. Sorry if it confuses you, I'm not totally sure why I have to do that. Thank you. :)

* * *

Also, I got a review, but I couldn't reply to it personally because they weren't logged in, but it does relate to my writing, so I'm going to appoligize openly to all you guys.

No,I'm not the best at spelling, it's been the thing I've never really been able to get my head round for the whole of my life (this I've said on my profile as well). I do try my hardest, but when you're getting spell checks in nearly every sentence, it becomes quite hard to prevent. I'm aware I always get the word: 'minute' wrong, so if I do get that wrong I am sorry, now I know for sure the correct spelling I'll try to stop that.

As for 'Neville' though, that is unacceptable, if anyone was wondering, yes 'Nevil' is meant to be Neville Longbottom, I should have checked that really. So yeah, I'm gonna go change that. Thank you 'Zeph C' for your comment, and for making me aware of that!

* * *

**Chapter 10: The Power of a Name**

It wasn't the dream that woke him up, more so the irrevocable approach of the end, an end, which only destiny could play a part in.

Minutes before, a man had kneeled before him, a man whose blood was shed from his own immortal blade (not that having such a weapon could afford him the same power.). The man clasped on to unmarked armor, pulling himself up by its aid, his sword travelling with him, its tip piercing the same armour that he held so tight, the blade dug deeper and deeper until it reached cold air once again. He felt pain as the man yanked his sword up, once twice, then pulled it out; and then he was falling, falling, the ground was softer than expected, but when he hit it he carried on falling, falling, and for one last time he opened his eyes.

Leo jumped, someone's face centimetres away. He shuffled back in his bed sheets, taking several long, deep breaths as he calmed himself down.

"Hugo!" He gasped. "What the…"

"You were mumbling again." Hugo interrupted.

"Mumbling?"

Hugo nodded. "I couldn't quite make out what you were saying most of the time, but you said something along the lines of…" He paused for a moment. "'I had to' yes that's what you said! 'I had to'… What did you have to do Leo? Because I'm glad you got it over and done with. I would sorely love to get a little sleep once in a while." He winked at Leo to show he was joking, before flopping himself into his own bed and spontaneously falling back to sleep.

Leo sat there for a moment, his chest rising and falling, trying to take in the events of the last few seconds.

'Again'? What did Hugo mean by 'again'? He couldn't recall having any bad dreams since he had arrived at Hogwarts… Or had he?

"Oh" Leo thought aloud, remembering for the first time in four weeks, what his mind had somehow made him forget. The night of the sorting hat ceremony, when he had woken from a dream, that had shaken him for a least a week after.

Suddenly, a picture swam into his mind's eye and not just a picture but a whole plethora of feelings with it. He felt an overwhelming connection between he, the young boy sitting in the comfort of his own bed, and the battle hardened warrior that, his mind had minuets ago, imagined killing another.

Leo took his wand from under his pillow and without voicing the command he performed the 'wingardium leviosa' charm on the glass of water that stood on his bed side table. It fell gracefully into his hand (Leo, it seemed was a naturally when it came to any ability that involved his new wand) and he took a careful sip, milling things over.

Leo wasn't aware when sleep came, but when it was time to wake in the morning, he realised that he had not replaced his wand, nor the glass and they both lay on top of him, the contents of the glass now soaked up by his night shirt. He heaved himself out of bed and with a huge sigh, he mumbled to himself, "Oh great."

* * *

-30 minutes later

Since, the wand incident on his first day, Leo and Professor Pollywood had become close, and apart from their somewhat creepy start to their relationship Leo couldn't see anything wrong with her. This was unlike most Gryffindor's it seemed, and to his surprise Leo had found that Hugo in particular had a silent loathing toward her. His friend said she set him on edge; apparently it was the way her eyes darted around the room, like the snake from which her house was bread.

"She's the type of person who could say one thing and mean the other." Was what Hugo had told him only the day before, but Leo couldn't understand that, he thought she was very kind and considerate compared to most of the Hogwarts teachers, and her smile was friendly enough, in fact it would be warm if it weren't for the fact that the dungeon in which she taught was cold, with no natural light penetrating its thick stone walls.

Leo shivered as he entered the potions lab; it seemed colder today than it had before, and the cold autumn wind whispered into the room even though light could not.

Leo sat down next to Hugo and Lily (in the past few weeks Leo had become nearly just as good friends with Lily as he was with Hugo) and folded his arms in anticipation of the lesson. As Professor Pollywood entered the room, the happy buzz of the class ceased, until all that could be heard where the echoing footsteps of the potions teacher.

"Hello class," Melantha smiled sweetly, Leo smile back, though he could feel Hugo fidgeting next to him. "Today we will be making a sleeping potion of sorts. Unfortunately we cannot make a full-fledged potion of this sort, because of the high danger level (such potions have been known to render a man unconscious for days and in extreme cases: years) and the fact that such a potion is high above any of your levels, due to this, the potion will merely make you dozy." She paused, her eyes dancing across the class room. "Are we ready to begin?"

* * *

As usual, the potion consisted of many strange ingredients, with exception of lavender of course. The Professor explained, as the class ground the purple flower into their caldrons, that such a herb (though most commonly used in muggle remedies.) had magical properties, and was used in many closely related potions.

The last sprinkle of ingredients entered their potions, and they were all told to sit back down again and listen.

"Well done all of you." The Professor said as she looked over everyone's potions. "Although…" she paused, standing over a desk at the far back. "Nathan; take a look around at your classmate's potions, and compare it to the one sitting before you." The tall, lanky boy whom she stood over got up, and standing on his tip toes he surveyed the room.

Then sitting down he said: "Ah."

"Indeed." Pollywood said, and turning round she walked back to her usual place at the front of the class room. The class instinctively got up and craned to see what the boy had done wrong and soon Nathan was cringing under the inquisitive glare of thirty, first years. It seemed that the sleeping potion, (or for the first years: drowsy potion) as mirrored in the majority of the student's caldrons, was intended to be a dark turquoise. Nathan's on the other hand, was an electric pink.

The Professor sighed. "Sit down class." The students followed suit, but Leo faltered for a moment, still slightly in the haze which lingered after little sleep.

"Now please Leo." Melantha's sharp voice snapped him out of his daze and he sat down. She nodded to him the carried on talking. "Right then, seen as you all tried so hard today, I think you deserve to see the side effects of the potion that you just made." She produced a vial from her pocket; in it was the same turquoise liquid that simmered before the each of the students (with the exception of one).

"Any volunteers?" She asked. None raised a hand, they all recalled the last time someone had been called to the front of the class to test a magical liquid; the liquid in particular had been a vomiting potion. Leo could feel the class grimacing at the memory.

The Professor sighed. "No one? Well I'll have to pick for myself then won't I? Leo, how about you; seen as you were so eager to find out the wrong outcome of this potion?" She smiled kindly at him.

Leo groaned quietly to himself, but got up all the same. Melantha handed him the vial and tipping his head back, Leo drank.

As the last drop touched Leo's tongue, the faces around him smudged and leaked, like an oil painting left out in the rain. His head began to swim and the voice of the professor became muffled and distorted so that it resembled the moaning of an old oak tree in a storm. His legs gave way, and he collapsed to the ground.

* * *

When he woke, he was lying on stone, but not the stone of the dungeons, for light was streaming through a gap in a ruby red, embroidered screen. He felt a sharp pain in his arm and closed his eyes against the pain, when he opened them again he realised there was a man in the room with him. He was in his late teens or early twenties and was peering through the crack in the screen; listening to a conversation on the other side. Leo sharpened his ears to join him. Two voices could be heard from the other side of the screen, one belonging to a man, and the other: a woman. The woman's voice seemed familiar and as Leo began to fully regain consciousness, the face of Melantha Pollywood swam into his head.

"You're not searching my chambers." The woman's voice was had a strict authority in it; such an authority that most men would have at least been set a back a little, but when the man answered, he just sounded board.

"Don't take it personally I have to search the entire castle. It'll only take a few minutes."

From behind the young man Leo could see the couple; the man was dressed in a soft leather jacket with silver buttons at the shoulder, he had blond hair, Leo couldn't see his face, and the woman was clad in a long purple dress, the type of which princesses of old would have worn and when the man spoke, she turned toward the screen, a look of anxiety in her features; but as she did Leo gave out a quiet gasp of amazement. The woman didn't just sound like Melantha Pollywood. She was Melantha Pollywood!

"I'm not having you mess up my things!" She said.

"I'm not interested in your things." Came her answer. "I'm just looking for any evidence that the druid boy's in the castle."

At that, the man peeking through screen turned to look at him, confusion on his face. The man had chiselled features, a sharp jawline, large lips and ears and deep blue eyes. The man looked around quickly, then seeming to realise something, he looked back through the gap in the screen. Softly, he began to whisper words of magic and without being able to stop them; Leo's eyes began to close, the man's words sounding like a lullaby to his drowsy ears.

Suddenly the words stopped, and he was outside, standing above a court yard paved in stone.

His eyes met two figures, and he began running down the steps before of him. The figures were of two men. One of which was walking towards him with a huge amount of relief on his face, the other though, walked slowly behind the first, and to Leo's surprise he recognised him and for a second Leo flashed back to the face that had turned to look at him from behind the scene what seemed like only seconds ago, but years had aged that face and now Leo looked upon the face of a grown man, and that man looked back at him, with fear in his eyes.

Finally Leo reached the first man and they embraced. Leo's eyes closed for a second and when they opened he was back at the battle field from his dream earlier that morning. The same man that had been so eager to see him was now kneeling on the ground, and when Leo looked into his eyes he felt hatred, anger and betrayal, but he felt another feeling too, one entirely different from the others, regret.

"You gave me no choice." Leo's words shook as he stood there, looking down at the man who he felt so much hatred for and yet so much love. Leo couldn't begging to comprehend what had happened in the minuets or even years before, all he knew was that, somehow, he was there, and when the blade touched his heart, he began to fall.

He forced his eyes open, pain clasping every inch of his body. Melantha Pollywood sat there, he was in the same place, but the body of the man he had killed was gone.

Melantha's voice quivered when she spoke, and a tear trickled down her face.

"You are fading, but know this: you have succeeded, and all that we have worked for has come to pass. They may have won the battle, but they haven't won the war. Arthur is dying and unless he is taken to Avalon soon he will surely be gone." She paused, her lip curling in hatred. "He will not arrive there Mordred, I shall make sure of that."

The vision faded, but one word lingered in the air. _Mordred_. There was still for a moment, Melantha's voice echoed from none existent walls. "_Mordred_" that name, _his_ name repeated through history and as Leo listened, he could feel the weight of all the people that it had touched.

Suddenly he was sucked into a whirling vortex. Memories rushed by him, faces of people lost to time. He couldn't understand what was happening, his head span and he faded as dizziness overcame him.

And when he woke, he remembered everything.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

So Leo is Mordred. I personally thought Asa Butterfield (Little Mordred) looked like a Leo. Anyone else think that?... No? Okay I'll shut up.


End file.
